In the distance, Hugo Hound—the hound demon who lay dead in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open in death—still twitched faintly. Before Monkey was a sea of armored soldiers, heads bowed low in submission.
At this moment, the entire camp was eerily silent.
Monkey glanced at all those bowed heads and let out a cold laugh.
This was the fighting strength of this unit. They had already lost the most basic quality of a soldier—courage.
What could one expect from an army without courage?
Gene Elk shot them a cold look, then turned and walked into the command tent, leaving the bewildered demon soldiers still kneeling.
Monkey pulled out a slip of paper: "Qi Yu."
"P-present," came a trembling voice from within the sea of black armor.
"Step forward!" Monkey glanced at Qi Yu, then continued reading, "And Bu Xun, General Lee, Zhang Jin..."
One by one, the black-clad figures trembled as they slowly stood up. Even if doubts lingered in their hearts, they had no choice—for they no longer had the courage to fight.
"You stay. The rest—assemble the entire army in half an hour!" Turning away, Monkey handed the slip of paper to Louis Quickpaw, who had been waiting nearby. "Keep an eye on them."
"Yes, sir!"
Casting a final, contemptuous glance at the demon generals, Monkey strode into the command tent.
Big Bull, Shortbeak, and the newcomer Boar Pete hurried after him.
Inside the tent, chaos reigned—overturned tables and chairs, blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. In one corner lay Gene Elk's corpse, mangled beyond recognition.
Standing in the center, another Gene Elk slowly shifted form in front of Monkey—Miles Moon.
"Are you insane? If they hadn’t submitted, what was your plan? Do you realize how few of us there are?" he demanded, face twisted in anger.
"If they hadn’t submitted, I would have fought. If they refuse, I’ll beat them until they obey," Monkey replied coolly.
"Fight? Can we even win? Do you really want a repeat of that night?"
"If it comes to that, so be it."
Monkey's unwavering gaze pierced Miles Moon's heart like a sharp sword, radiating an unshakable will.
This was Monkey's logic: If they refuse, beat them until they submit. When something must be done, nothing can stop him!
Long ago, Miles Moon had predicted that no matter what fate awaited Monkey, his path would be paved with bones.
Now, that prophecy seemed painfully accurate—so much so that even he could do nothing to change it.
The two stood in silence, staring at each other for a long time.
Miles Moon's hands trembled, while Monkey's expression remained disturbingly calm.
In the end, Miles Moon could only lower his head and give a helpless laugh.
He had no real influence over anything. Even if he weren’t here, Monkey would find another way to achieve his goal—the only difference would be the level of risk, not whether it was done or not.
That was his logic.
Turning around, Monkey asked the white-furred Boar Pete, "What’s your name?"
Boar Pete started and thumped his chest. "Everyone calls me Pete Tusker."
"Good name. Sounds like a proper monster's name."
"Thank you for the compliment, Brother Monkey." Pete Tusker grinned, scratching his head in embarrassment.
Just moments ago, he had doubted whether Monkey could really lead them to escape the joint assault of the Heavenly Army and the Serpent Lord. But now, he was utterly convinced.
"How about I give you a task?"
"I’ll go through fire and water, risk my life without hesitation!" Pete Tusker declared, pounding his chest.
"How many men do you have?"
"About two hundred. But if you need more, the other leaders outside could muster up a thousand or so."
Monkey bent down, picked up Gene Elk’s scattered command token from the ground, and handed it to Pete Tusker.
"Take this and secure the camp perimeter. If anyone enters or leaves without my personal order, kill them without mercy."
"Yes, sir!" Pete Tusker gripped the token, hefted his spiked mace, and strode off, muttering excitedly, "Damn, finally my time to shine."
Monkey turned his gaze from Pete Tusker to Shortbeak.
As their eyes met, Shortbeak—who had been watching Monkey quietly—suddenly asked, "Should we call you Sun Wukong?"
"Whatever you like. I prefer it when you call me Monkey."
Shortbeak just nodded slightly, blinking and saying nothing more.
Monkey handed another token to Shortbeak. "You take the sky route. Same rule—if anyone leaves camp without my order, shoot them, no exceptions. Even if it's a bird."
"Understood."
With that, he turned and left the tent as well.
Finally, it was Big Bull's turn.
Thanks to Miles Moon’s medicine, Big Bull’s wounds had healed, though he had lost a horn.
Miles Moon had tried to help reattach it, but no matter what he did, the broken horn was never found.
Maybe the Serpent Lord’s guards swept up the remains of other demons and sold it off for a pittance.
Luckily, monsters never care much about appearances. Broken is broken—Big Bull himself didn’t mind at all.
Looking at Monkey, Big Bull asked, "What about White Ape? I heard the Serpent Lord caught him. Did you rescue him?"
Monkey didn’t answer. He just blinked a few times, his gaze shifting away, and his breathing noticeably quickened.
"We’ll talk about that later. Your task is to go and assist Anna Yang."
"Got it." Big Bull took the token from Monkey and turned to leave.
The tent was now empty, leaving only Monkey and Miles Moon facing each other.
"Sorry, I was harsh just now. I can’t let them sense any hesitation in me."
Miles Moon gave a helpless smile, walked over to set an overturned chair upright, and sat down. "I think that was the real you just now. But... does doing this really mean anything?"
"If it's meaningless, does that mean it shouldn't be done? Someone has to step up and do it, don't they?"
He thought again of that good-hearted soul, the figure like an old farmer—the White Ape who died by his sword.
Some things... someone just has to do them.
Staring at Monkey for a long while, Miles Moon finally bowed his head and sighed, "I really admire people like you—doing things even if they're pointless. You only consider whether it should be done, not the outcome."
[Irrelevant system message skipped.]
"People like us?" Monkey looked up. "Who else is there?"
"Erik Yang." Miles Moon gazed up at the tent's ceiling, taking a deep breath. "He's a pathbreaker like you."
Monkey hesitated for a moment, then replied coolly, "I'm not like him."
"The only difference is that one's human and one's a demon. What do you plan to do with the Serpent Lord's troops? Make them the vanguard?"
Monkey didn’t answer.
Half an hour passed quickly, and all the troops had assembled.
At the camp’s edge, the fires crackled, Pete Tusker’s sentries lined the perimeter, Shortbeak’s flyers patrolled the sky, and the ground troops stood in formation, silent as stone.
In the dim, reddish firelight, every face was grim and tense.
A stifling atmosphere hung over the entire camp.
Monkey had all the main commanders under his control; the troops before him were leaderless.
Even so, everyone sensed that something momentous had happened.
Twelve demon generals were herded by Monkey’s followers to the foot of the hill.
With Miles Moon transformed as Jin Zhi, Monkey climbed the hill and faced the mass of demons. "Earlier, there were rumors that this battle was a trap—that the Serpent Lord was just putting on a show to sell you all to the Heavenly Army for military merit."
The ranks erupted in uproar.
Before anyone could figure out why the Cavalry Marshal was bringing up these rumors now, he raised his voice and shouted, "Today, I tell you—that’s not a rumor. That is the truth!"
[Section break—irrelevant.]
[Author’s note and acknowledgements skipped as irrelevant.]
[Special thanks note skipped as irrelevant.]